*My thoughts on the life Allan should have had—one filled with love, laughter, and children (that he was not allowed to turn upside down!)*


"Once a traitor, always a traitor..."

Robin's words still rang in Allan's ears, even through the mist of years. On that rainy day so many years ago when the gang had just returned from Acre, he had faced the fact that, even though Much and Little John had defended him, that is how they would all view him for the rest of his life—the traitor. As Robin had turned to stalk away in one direction, Allan had turned dejectedly in the other, shaking off the hands of Much and Little John as they tried to stop him.

He had gone south and west, traveling for days, and gotten caught hustling the clientele in a busy but clean inn near Bristol. The owner of the inn had been on his way to get the sheriff, having beaten Allan and tied him. The innkeeper's daughter, Elaine, had taken pity on Allan, seeing the sadness in his eyes, and had begged her father to reconsider. After much deliberation, the older man had decided to put Allan to work serving alongside his daughter instead of turning him in. Under her tutelage, Allan had learned how to please the customers, giving good service and tossing out the drunks. Allan had decided to change his name to Tom Gray to help him escape his past and to protect the innkeeper and his family.

He had put his deft fingers to work learning the lute on the boring nights of winter when no one was traveling, thus adding to the inn's popularity with the locals, and increasing his popularity with Elaine's father. Elaine had badgered him into attending church, although he tried to use his charm to sleep in instead. Elaine was stubborn though, and had barged into his room with a bucket of cold water one morning after she had had enough of his excuses. She had stood over his bed, threatening him and he had laughed at her, claiming she would never dare. It had taken a week for his bed to dry out, and Elaine never had to douse him again. At church, he had learned of forgiveness, but it had taken him nearly a year to learn to forgive himself, absolving the gang first.

A year to the day after his arrival, he had asked Elaine to marry him. He had stood on a table during the dinner rush and claimed his unworthiness, begging her to accept his proposal anyway. Much to his surprise, she had agreed, laughing and smacking his leg with a towel to get him off of the table. The crowd had cheered as he grabbed the towel and pulled her up beside him instead, kissing her soundly in front of everyone.

A few months later they had stood before the priest, Elaine's blonde hair ringed with daisies, and promised themselves to each other. Elaine's father and mother had both cried as the younger couple had pledged "to love, honor, and obey" until death did them part. In the three years since, Elaine had borne him three children—two strapping boys and one sassy girl, all with the blue eyes of their father and the blonde hair of their mother.

The inn stayed busy year-round now thanks to his musical skills, and his father-in-law had told him that one day it would belong to him and Elaine. Already, he kept half of the profits, plus any extra made from his lute-playing. Taxes were high, of course, but they could afford them. On Sundays, they invited all of their poorer neighbors over for dinner. From Elaine, he had learned that a person didn't have to jeopardize their life in order to help others.

Allan turned his attention back to the man who sat across the table from him, telling Allan of the demise of Robin Hood, who had died after being shot with dozens of arrows. Allan looked across the room and smiled sadly at his lovely wife, who came to stand beside him, seeing his need for comfort. He reached up and put his arm around her waist, resting his head against her belly and smiling at the movement of their fourth child. He played the part of Tom Gray, weeping for England's loss; already his quick mind was working on putting the tale of Robin Hood to music, a tribute to his one-time friend.

Later that night, in their bed, he wept for his friend, whose recklessness and stubbornness had brought about his end, while she stroked his hair, reminding him that life was good, and that for once, Allan A' Dale was in the sun.